


dizzy hurricane (god, i'm sick of sleeping alone)

by sevensevan



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Halloween, Haunted House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16242095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevensevan/pseuds/sevensevan
Summary: Jemma really didn't intend to break anyone's nose today, especially not a pretty girl's.





	dizzy hurricane (god, i'm sick of sleeping alone)

**Author's Note:**

> from @waverly-earp on tumblr: "you work in the haunted house I was going through and jumped out to scare me and I accidentally hit you and I’m so sorry - this is so college skimmons". thanks for the prompt. i hope yall like it :) (also i am the author formerly known as deathwave1 and i keep meaning to say that at the start of every fic and i don't but yeah) title from backseat serenade by all time low because titles are hard and i should be going to bed rn

“You’re a horrible person,” Jemma hisses as she trails Fitz through a doorway draped with plastic… _are those finger bones_?

“Not my fault you’re scared of haunted houses,” Fitz says. They step into a pitch-black hallway. Jemma shoves her hands in her jacket pockets to hide the way they immediately start to shake. Not that he can see it, anyway, not with how dark the hallway is, but damn it, they’re in a _haunted house_. Jemma can’t be expected to think or act rationally under such conditions.

“I’m not _scared_ ,” Jemma says, already moderately scared. The hallway they’re walking down begins to lighten. “I just think the whole thing is— _Jesus_!” She stumbles back a step from the bloody, rotting hand that’s suddenly sticking out from the wall in front of her, grasping at air. “ _Christ_ ,” she finishes, in a much calmer voice. Not that she was screaming.

Fitz is laughing.

“Shut _up_ ,” she says, shoving him forwards. He ducks, narrowly avoiding the strings of blood and gore that decorate the next doorway. Jemma follows, pulling her hood up and desperately hoping none of _whatever_ they used to make fake blood hang in ropes doesn’t land in her hair. “You’re— _fuck_!”

Jemma took self defense lessons as a teenager. It had been the product of a healthy sense of paranoia and a highly overprotective father who saw a chance to arm his daughter with thirteen different ways to break someone’s wrist and took it. Usually, it makes for an interesting story; occasionally, a fun trick where she demonstrates the ability to throw someone. Once, she actually had to use a few of her skills on a very persistent and creepy man.

Now, her subconscious decides to utilize them again. This time, on the person in the Jason Voorhees mask who, moments ago, leapt out in front of her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” the person says, grabbing at the front of their mask and taking a step back. “Fucking _shit_.”

“Oh God,” Jemma says, taking a step forwards. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” The person pulls their mask off, shaking out their hair, and presses a hand to their face.

“I’m good,” they say, as blood begins to drip down their chin.

“You’re not good,” Jemma says. “Oh God, you’re bleeding.” The person pulls their hand away, and Jemma can now see that it’s a girl. Not just a girl, no, of course not. A very attractive girl.

A very attractive girl whose nose Jemma probably definitely just broke.

“Well, this is definitely a new experience,” the girl says conversationally, her words coming out nasally and slurred through the blood in her nose. “I’ve worked here since freshman year. No one’s ever hit me before.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jemma says, for lack of anything else to say. “It was instinctual.”

“Some instinct,” Fitz says, and oh, he’s here, too. Jemma had forgotten that for a moment. “Jem, I think you broke her nose.”

“I think you did, too,” the girl says, touching her face and wincing.

“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Jemma says. “I’ll—I’m just—I’m so sorry.”

“You said that.” The girl grins at her, and oh, Jemma should _not_ be attracted to her right now, that is absolutely not a thing that should be happening. “I’ll take you up on that ride to the hospital and we’ll call it even?”

“I—yes, sure.” _That is not a fair trade at all_. But it is an unfair trade in Jemma’s favor, so she’ll take it. “My car is—“ Jemma begins to turn to go back the way she came.

“No, come through here.” She turns back at the girl’s voice, and suddenly there’s a door in the wall. Jemma supposes that makes sense; all the jumpscares have to come from somewhere. “We can go out the back.” Jemma follows the girl through the door.

“Good luck!” Fitz calls after them. Jemma is tempted, very tempted, to tell him to fuck off.This is all his fault, in a way. The haunted house was his idea.

“You know, you’re really quite deceptively calm for the amount of blood leaving your nose,” Jemma says and immediately regrets. Luckily, the girl seems to find it funny. She laughs just a bit before stopping and wincing.

“Hurts to laugh,” she says. “Would it help if I freaked out?”

“No,” Jemma says. “No, I’m already freaked out. No more freaking out is needed.” The girl laughs again, then groans and holds a hand to her face.

“You can’t make me laugh,” she says, her words muffled by her hand. “It hurts.”

“Sorry,” Jemma says. They step out into the chilly October air, and Jemma squints through the dim lights in the parking lot, trying to remember where she parked.

“I’m Daisy, by the way,” the girl says. Jemma doesn’t respond, distracted. “Don’t I at least get to know the name of my attacker? For the police report?”

“Police?” Jemma says, whirling around and staring at Daisy. “You—report— _police_?”

“Dude,” Daisy says. “I’m _kidding._ ” Jemma exhales, shaking her head. “I thought it was funny,” Daisy says with a shrug. Jemma spots her car and begins to lead Daisy towards it.

“I’m Jemma,” she says after a minute. “Pleased to meet you. Sorry I broke your nose.” Daisy laughs.

“Ow, _fuck_. Pleased to meet you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! i'm working on a quakerider oneshot that should be up soon and a longer avalance fic that might be up by thanksgiving if i get my shit together sakldghsalhsag. i'm on tumblr @daisys-quake and on twitter @thoughtsintoink. leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed.


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